


I know it well, the nakedness of truth.

by Kaesteranya



Category: House M.D.
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-03
Updated: 2011-05-03
Packaged: 2017-10-18 22:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/194056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaesteranya/pseuds/Kaesteranya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The truth of the matter is...</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know it well, the nakedness of truth.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be porny. I honestly don’t know what happened.
> 
> The title is taken from the 31 Days theme for February 10, 2009, which references a line from Paul Eluard’s poem, “The nakedness of truth (I know it well)”.

He tells himself that he likes her for her legs, mostly: they’re amazingly long, and amazingly nice, and she’s almost always wearing stockings (which indulges Fetish #155), and she’s pretty much always in high heels (which indulges Fetish #196).

 

Her boobs are a definite second. He suspects, in his critically inclined, investigatory way, that she believes that it is her best asset, which would accurately explain away the reason why she insists on wearing the tops that she does. Tops that just make her wonderful mammary glands leap right out at everyone, practically screaming HELLO THERE at whoever dares to ogle them and risk losing their job. He ogles them all the time, of course, because he knows that she won’t ever get rid of him. Can’t afford to; he’s too damned good, and maybe she sort of likes the regular dose of abuse that comes with being his friend and boss.

 

Every other physical aspect falls in third, and the rest of her’s a distant fourth…

 

…At least, that is what Gregory House tells himself, because it is very hard to admit that he’s grown awfully fond of simpler things. Romantic things, like the way the sunlight of her office flatters her features, the particular sway of her hips, the tiny collection of gestures that make up her personality and the grace with which she carries everything – her hospital, her job, her motherhood, his total social ineptitude – with very little whining.

 

It’s so much easier to go for the physical, after all, than to realize that even after all of these years and all of those mishaps, he’s falling in love again.


End file.
